Bluff

"'Come on, little lady, give us a smile'
No, I ain't got nothin' to smile about
I got no one to smile for, I waited a while for
A moment to say I don't owe you a goddamn thing"
A long term resident of Felhallow City, like a parasite infesting its host she is seen wandering the ruined grounds and spreading her notoriety through her quiet but constant presence. Bluff was what they called her, a name both suiting and ironic, as despite being an adept caster of false illusions, everyone in the area knew her bark was unrivaled by that lethal bite. To onlookers, she is categorized by her solitary nature, the faded rags draping her shoulders and a slim white mask covering her face.

Even that mask, though, is not enough to hide those eyes, like twin flames, burning with vitriol. Nobody is sure where that immense spite comes from, nor how such a great amount can inhabit such a minute frame. Nobody can explain why she wanders the dilapidated streets, a ghost during the night, talons clacking on the worn concrete like a saccharine warning while her claws idly strum across the veilspun verse she always keeps by her side. Nor can they understand why she is always humming as she plucks on those strings, a solemn dirge brimming with mourning and an invisible oath for vengeance.

One who dabbles in sorcery, Bluff's abilities do not manifest in the real world, but rather among the realm of dreams and nightmares alike. She considers herself the city's vigilante, grazing over the fact that she is a terribly skewed one, her perceptions warped by that festering hatred she keeps bottled in her zealous gaze.

Targeting the newcomers to this long standing ruin, Bluff can always be heard under the shadows of night strumming her veilspun verse and singing a song with quiet allure. Like the pied piper, she draws dragons in with a captivating melody, before letting the gentle serenade of her enchanted harp put her targets to sleep.

Bluff casts her sorcery among her slumbering victims, creating illusions that draw out their greatest fears, most earnest desires and most passionate beliefs. Upon these vulnerabilities, Bluff passes the gavel, dishing out vindictive judgement upon those she qualifies as unworthy while leaving those that slip by her unyielding asperity. It isn't uncommon for dragons to wake up confused in the middle of the city on their first day, blinking sleep from their eyes and struggling to remember the past few hours in a cloud of haze.

There is no street in this great ruin that remains untouched by the throes of Bluff's song, no corner or alley that escapes her vindictive wrath.